Last Daughter
by Friendly Feanorian
Summary: She was the last lonely daughter of a cursed family. Would anyone have the courage to love her?


**An early birthday present for SilverMoon7968, written for a challenge from her. Happy Birthday Silver!**

**One –shot. Summary: She is the last lonely daughter of a cursed kindred. Who would have the courage to love her?**

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**Last Daughter**

Blood. Murder. Battles. Destruction. Madness. Death.

Antiel closed the book with a thump and dropped her face down onto it. Murderers and madmen. All of them. There was not one of her kin that she could take pride in. Not even the one named 'Silver Fist' who had been seduced by Sauron and paid for his folly with two years of torture and captivity. Her grandfather – or so it was supposed.

"I came here to discover who I was," she said aloud. "And now I wish that I had not."

There was silence for a long moment.

"I am sorry, Anna," he said. "I wish we could have given you better news."

Antiel looked up and considered her reflection in the window. "I made a spindly dwarf," she said. "But I am no handsome elf either. I am too short and inclined to be too brawny for an elf maid."

The Lord of Rivendell smiled at her. "In my - admittedly limited - experience, all young maids find their appearance unsatisfactory at your age. But you have not finished growing yet."

"Your kindness is legendary, My Lord," she said.

"So is my wisdom!" he replied, standing and coming over to rest a hand on her stooped shoulder. "But we are more than a summary of our ancestors. We are who we decide to be."

He could not tell her for certain how she had had her birth. Celebrimbor, the last and only grandson of Feanor had a wife, but it had been supposed that she had died in the Sack of Eregion along with her unborn child.

But it appeared that it had not been so.

"It would have been kinder if they had left me to die, as indeed the King of Mirkwood suggested that they do," Antiel sighed. "There is no place for me anywhere in this world! No one wants me!"

Antiel guessed from Elrond's suddenly deeply furrowed brow that she had gone too far.

"Your dwarven friends brought you to Rivendell so that you would at least be among your own kind. Never regret yourself, Antiel. We are all born for a purpose. Even you. There will be a place for you…and someone to love." She felt his hand withdraw and a moment later the library door closed behind him.

Antiel cursed herself. The Lord Elrond had taken her in and allowed her to live in Rivendell even after another Elven ruler had rejected her. Elrond was the last person that she wanted to hurt. Belatedly, she remembered that he knew all too well what it was like to be an ill-fitting new member of an elven settlement. He even knew what it was like to live under Feanorion shadow. Why did she always think of other people's hurt too late? She made a mental note to try harder in future.

She decided that the best time to make an apology – however clumsy – was to do so immediately. She left the library and began walking down the corridor; sure she could guess the direction her benefactor had taken.

Trotting quickly in order to catch up she reflected on the loss of her mother and father. Afraid of Sauron's forces and alienated from their elven-kin, Celebrimbor's wife and her entourage had withdrawn to a tiny settlement in the Iron Hills, where they had lived in proximity to a group of dwarves. It was here that her daughter – Antiel did not even have any of their names – married late in life and she had been born. Their dwarven neighbors had arrived too late to save the settlement from the trolls. Antiel they had found wailing underneath the body of a woman supposed to be her mother. A rather ignoble death for a Noldor princess, Antiel mused.

She heard the unmistakable light pat of elven footsteps ahead of her, and thought she had caught up with her quarry.

"My Lord…" she called.

But the elf who turned to face her was not anyone she had met before. His golden hair swept his shoulders as he turned and lowered his hood. Keen grey eyes shone from a perfectly sculpted face. His green and brown clothing distinguished him as an elf foreign to Rivendell. He politely put his quiver and bow on the ground in the elven sign of friendship. She felt her heart quicken.

"My Lady?" he began, graceful eyebrows raised.

Antiel stopped in her tracks, staring at him for too long.

"My Lady?" he asked again, this time looking mildly amused.

Antiel slapped herself mentally.

"Forgive me, Sir," she said fixing her eyes on his riding boots. "I was looking for the Lord Elrond. I thought that he went this way."

Now he was taking a turn to be silent. Antiel frowned. She just knew he was taking in her short stature, her thick limbs and most uncomfortably, her red hair.

"And who might you be?" the elf asked.

Everyone always asked that. They always wanted to know about her hair.

"My name is Antiel. I have recently come to live here in Rivendell, after having spent my childhood in the Iron Hills. I don't know the names of those whose daughter I am. I can only tell you for certain that they died and I was taken in by some dwarves out of kindness that was denied me by the Elvenking. Elrond does not believe that having red hair makes a person cursed, whoever their kin might be."

"Indeed?" said the elf.

Why did they always say that?

There was an uncomfortable silence. Antiel risked a glance at the elf's face. He was studying her as she expected, but his head was tilted to one side and a small smile curved his lips.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Antiel of Rivendell, I am honored to make your acquaintance. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil of Mirkwood."

Antiel thought she would suffocate as her throat completely closed. _Son of…_

"Please allow me to recant whatever curses my father has laid on you, an innocent maid. Elrond's wisdom is far wider and deeper than my father's. If Elrond sees fit to include you in his household, then I would honor his guest."

Antiel suddenly felt as if her clothing had been filled with live eels. She remembered too late that she was supposed to return the elf's greeting by placing her hand on his shoulder.

Instead he drew her trembling hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on her knuckle.

Antiel thought she would swoon. She closed her eyes pictured her unconscious self being discovered by the Lord Elrond hours later, once again managing to inconvenience and embarrass him.

When she opened her eyes again, Legolas was gone.

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**So what do you want to happen next? Post a review or PM me. I will write up the best suggestion.**


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